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Bonnie Franklin, RIP

MV5BOTAzMDUwNTI4N15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMTUzMTAzNA@@._V1._SX640_SY433_Bonnie Franklin, who played a divorced mother on a long-running CBS situation comedy, died of cancer yesterday. She was 69. Though Franklin had an established career and had been nominated for a Tony Award, her portrayal for nine seasons of a liberated woman named Ann Romano, who memorably insisted on going by Ms., which the building superintendent pronounced “em-ess Romano”, leaves a lasting impression.

Though a popular program, Norman Lear‘s One Day at a Time certainly never achieved the vaunted commercial or critical success of its Lear-produced cousins, All in the Family, Maude and The Jeffersons, and Ms. Romano had a tendency to explode with histrionics as Bonnie Franklin overacted at least some of the time. But as a dramatic comedy about real, daily middle class life, the show – and Franklin’s character – holds up.

In the premiere, which aired in 1975, Ms. Romano had packed her teenaged kids in the car after divorce and moved to an apartment in Indianapolis. She struggled to find work, make a living, overcome sexist standards, raise children, have meaningful relationships, deal with her ex-husband, though the most interesting and humorous episodes involved dealing with her conservative mother (Nanette Fabray). Her daughters, played by Mackenzie Phillips and Valerie Bertinelli, agonized over adolescent problems ranging from skin conditions and homework to sex, drugs and suicide. Before Modern Family, an excellent show that owes much of its dynamic to shows such as One Day at a Time, particularly with the personality contrast between sisters and the harried, overwhelmed mom, One Day at a Time took a hot-headed single mother, her two kids, a handyman named Schneider (Pat Harrington) and various friends, boyfriends, spouses, ex-spouses, grandchildren and co-workers over the course of its run (1975-1984) and managed to explore deep, serious topics and depict a strong, virtuous mid-American family.

Bonnie Franklin’s Ann Romano was at the center, obsessing over the newest social media – citizens’ band radio – confronting predators, chasing after her wayward, self-destructive daughter Julie and trying to make the best of everything. The program delivered thought-provoking naturalism, such as whether Julie (Phillips) would make better choices, how Ann would get ahead without compromising, why Barbara felt punished for being talented and responsible. There were more potent episodes, such as when Julie’s friend Melanie became suicidal, and less melodramatic teleplays, with Ann struggling to get work projects done while parenting her kids.

If they seemed overdone at the time, with red-haired Ms. Romano flying into a self-righteous rage, now we know – some of us knew then – that One Day at a Time reflected reality and that the culture and country were on the wrong track. One Day at a Time raised crucial, pressing questions: about whether a woman’s selfish liberation meant being a feminist – whether proper parenting meant unconditional tolerance for exploration or having conditional boundaries to protect a child’s life from the spreading drug subculture and hedonism – and whether the burdens of being a voice of reason, an intelligent child, and of living for the long term, not for the range of the moment, can be balanced. Bonnie Franklin brought us neither another high-pitched moron like Edith Bunker or Mrs. Cunningham nor a bitter shrew or harridan like Maude Findlay or Gladys Kravitz ; hers was an attempt to achieve a parent’s delicate balance between her own goals and her childrens’ interests. Ann Romano’s were real problems, then and now, but they seemed more acute then as traditional roles for men, women and children were being questioned, challenged and changed, whether for better or worse.

As the cliched title suggests, One Day at a Time, unlike its dumbed-down, ABC superhit counterparts such as Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley, delivered a dose of realism with thoughtfully embedded, if at times heavy-handed, themes of productiveness, independence, pride, honesty, integrity and self-interest shaped by a mother’s love. That Ms. Romano was a serious, not a silly or sarcastic, character that refused to compromise her ego for her children – or vice versa – puts One Day at a Time ahead of its time. That was the work of Bonnie Franklin.

Charles Durning Dies

I first became aware of actor Charles Durning, who died on Christmas Eve at the age of 89, in his role as a corrupt Chicago policeman in The Sting (1973). I was a kid, but I knew that he seemed realistic in the role, and I would continue to be impressed with his performances in my favorite CBS law and order shows, such as Hawaii Five-O, Barnaby Jones and Cannon. Then, I saw him as the captain of the doomed airship, The Hindenburg (1975) and, again, he was thoroughly convincing, as he was as another cop in Dog Day Afternoon that same year. The rotund actor was gritty in each role. But he was also remarkably intelligent in each performance, showing in his eyes and facial expressions that he was a man trying to solve a problem, which his roles typically called upon his character to do, and, while it would have been easy for him to emote and express his way into an overdone performance, as was common in the late 1960s and 1970s, he instead chose to inhabit each character with a uniquely indelible personality.

Durning, a war veteran who was reportedly among the first to land on the beaches of Normandy during World War 2 and the only member of his Army unit to survive, had a lifetime of traumatic experiences to draw upon: he had lost his father at the age of 12, lost five of his sisters to smallpox and scarlet fever, and he had killed Nazis, been wounded and captured during the Battle of the Bulge and survived a massacre of fellow prisoners of war. He’d left home at 16, worked in a slag heap and made his own way in life, emerging as an actor in some of the finest pictures in Hollywood. When asked by an interviewer in 1997 about his military experience – Durning had been awarded three Purple Hearts and a Silver Star – he declined to discuss it, simply saying: “Too many bad memories. I don’t want you to see me crying.”

His range was wide. He portrayed the father of a daughter with an eating disorder opposite Eva Marie Saint in the 1981 telefim The Best Little Girl in the World. He played comedy in Starting Over (1979), horror in When a Stranger Calls (1979) and musical as a crooked governor who dances up a storm in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1982) for which he was nominated for an Oscar. That same year brought him one of his most memorable roles as Jessica Lange’s father falling in love with Dustin Hoffman in drag in Tootsie. A year later he played an angel trying to save John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John in Two of a Kind and his enduring career continued with key parts in Dick Tracy (1990), The Hudsucker Proxy (1994), Home for the Holidays (1995) and roles for television in Evening Shade, Everybody Loves Raymond and Rescue Me. Charles Durning displayed depth, strength and tenderness, and, therefore, humanity in nearly every picture. His work mattered. He will be missed.

 

Neil Armstrong: 1930-2012

Neil Armstrong, who recently died at the age of 82, was the first man on the moon. As a Generation Xer who barely recalls watching his first lunar step on television, I am still in awe that those words as I write them are true. Neil Armstrong’s achievement is one of the greatest moments in history.

His name is synonymous with the best scientific event of what many consider the American century – the 20th century – which was actually man’s bloodiest century. Now in the spiral of a serious decline, it is easier to see that Mr. Armstrong’s tremendous accomplishment of flying and landing Apollo 11 is a grand counterpoint to the rest of the rotten century, which included the worst acts of mass murder sponsored by government known to man: Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union.

Putting a man on the moon, overcredited to President Kennedy and powered by less computer technology than is currently included in an Apple iPhone, required an enormous exertion of united American – and it was an American achievement – effort that resulted from tireless thoughts, calculations, connections, integrations and actions by those who worked on and participated in the endeavor – in a nation based on individual rights. As Ayn Rand, who had been invited to witness the launch of Apollo 11—and did—wrote in her publication, The Objectivist, after seeing Apollo 11′s rocket ship blast off:

Frustration is the leitmotif in the lives of most men, particularly today—the frustration of inarticulate desires, with no knowledge of the means to achieve them. In the sight and hearing of a crumbling world, Apollo 11 enacted the story of an audacious purpose, its execution, its triumph, and the means that achieved it—the story and the demonstration of man’s highest potential.”

The U.S. astronaut who told us that “the eagle has landed” in that remarkably human action on July 20, 1969, and took man’s first step on the moon – a fact which some, possibly many, of humanity has contempt for – was Neil Armstrong. May he who gave us the sublime sight of man at his best rest in peace.

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News: Rodney King is Dead

The man whose arrest and beating led to a government/media response that incurred the worst U.S. riot of the 20th century has been found dead, according to news reports (read my recent post on the Los Angeles riots here). His body was found by his fiancee in their home’s swimming pool 55 miles from Los Angeles. He was 47 years old.

I always thought convicted felon Rodney King was a sad person, whose eyes held such pain and sorrow when he spoke about what became of the city of angels in the wake of what he did and what was done to him. His famously uttered plea – “can we all get along?” – was immediately interpreted as some sort of universal challenge for everyone to love one another. But I think he spoke in desperation, as an exasperated, flawed black man suffering under the additional burden of racism, particularly the racism of those claiming to advocate on his behalf who were in some way demanding of him a duty to serve his race. Racism among blacks is as despicable as racism among any other race and its consequences are devastating (as I noted here in a post about an accomplished black journalist).

King, who recently wrote a book titled The Riot Within in which he expressed doubts about comparisons to Rosa Parks and other black heroes, seemed from the beginning of his unwanted fame to grasp that he was not a hero and he never seemed comfortable with being portrayed as a victim. That his body was found on Father’s Day is a reminder that being a man is about the sum of one’s choices, which form one’s character, not the blood in one’s veins. The sad, criminal life of Rodney King, who was arrested 11 times after the 1992 L.A. riots, is a lesson in how not to be a man.

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Donna Summer

I am sad to hear that Donna Summer has died of cancer at 63. Though not a fan of disco, I like her danceable songs, especially “Heaven Knows”. I also like her rock tunes, such as “She Works Hard for the Money”. I liked her 2008 album so much that I choreographed and danced a routine to one of its tracks, an anthem called “Stamp Your Feet”. What I wrote on my blog in August 2008 about what turns out to be her last album:

“The year’s most exciting pop album is Donna Summer’s Crayons, which includes the former disco diva’s varietal takes on reggae, electronic pop and a hypnotically romantic melody, “Sand on My Feet” [written for her husband, Bruce Sudano, who survives her]. The CD is dedicated to Summer’s husband and it features the single, “Stamp Your Feet,” which she performed earlier this year on American Idol. Crayons is an excellent piece of work and you’ll never think of Donna Summer—whose concert I’m attending this weekend—as only a disco diva again. Top tracks: the smooth, sensual “Drivin Down Brazil,” which makes you want to light some candles, the raunchy Tina Turner-esque “Slide Over Backwards,” and the rock-n-roll number “Fame (the Game)” which mocks going Hollywood. Also worth a listen: “Science of Love” and “Be Myself Again”. These songs ought to get a hearing in the nightclubs.”

Rest in peace, Donna Summer.

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